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“Don’t burn the pancakes.”
I jerk at the sound of Talon’s voice, Ford pressing my face to his neck, a low rumble vibrating from his throat.
“Man, just saying it would be a travesty to ruin them.”
I peek over Ford’s shoulder to find Talon standing at the fridge grinning at us. He’s shirtless, his athletic shorts low on his hips. All these guys have bodies that are a work of art. He catches me ogling and winks. “Morning, Hollywood.”
“Morning, Talon. Sorry, you caught us.”
“Don’t apologize. Isn’t my first rodeo. Glad Whitman finally figured out what to do when a hot woman kisses him.”
Ford’s hands form a death grip on my head, and it hits me Talon knows what happened a few weeks ago. I burst out laughing.
“There a reason you’re still here?” Ford grouses.
“Yeah, making sure you don’t burn my pancakes.”
I press lightly against him, kissing the side of his neck. “He has a point.”
He lets me go, shoots Talon a death glare, and goes back to the stove.
“Heads up, the smell of maple has spread. You have about ten minutes until the baby mama intrudes.” Talon retreats down the hall.
Ford blows out a frustrated breath, flipping pancakes. I hop off the counter, hugging his back and placing a kiss to his shoulder, before going to the fridge to grab some fruit.
“My product line is my passion project. Before my grandma passed away, we shared a love for making homemade beauty products. Mostly body scrubs and lip balms. It was simple, but it was our thing.”
“Sounds special.”
“It was. In high school, I found my penchant for science. Dad always adored me, but the first time I announced my plans to study chemistry in college, I swear he shed a tear. He said he’d waited my whole life for me to show he passed something down.”
“Been around the man several times. Hotch Ellis gave you a lot more than your love of science.”
“He did, which is why I studied my ass off, working toward my dream. After graduation, I shared my plans. To perfect a product for hair and skin, I needed to be a professional. So, I became a cosmetologist to learn more about my science and my clientele’s needs. They agreed, becoming my silent partners and helping me buy my building. The salon started off slow, so I threw myself into building the business in order to survive. When it started doing well, I hired some stylists and took a step back to work on the products. I already knew my focus would be on botanical ingredients, so my plan was in motion.”
“How’s it going?”
I shrug, hating this part of my story. “I was just getting my mind in the game when I took some time off.”
I dare peek up from cutting strawberries to find his eyes burning. “Meaning that fucker took you away from your work?”
“Something like that. He can’t take all the blame, considering he didn’t have a clue about that part of my life.”
“You’re wrong. He can shoulder all the blame for not being man enough to accept you. Goddamn arrogant son of a fucking bitch.”
The spatula in his hand snaps in two, one end flying across the kitchen.
For the first time, I don’t feel shame or stupidity. Instead, his anger sparks a warmth that seeps inside of me.
I put down my knife and make my way to him, framing his face and scaling my nails through his soft stubble. His eyes drop to mine and I rise to kiss him.
“He wasn’t significant enough to know my dreams and goals. No one was until yesterday.”
The storm in his gaze lightens, and he presses his forehead to mine. “There is nothing insignificant about you, Rowan.”
“You’re making me believe that.”
“Baby, you’re killing me.”
